


WHN Black & Blue

by CrazyKater



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyKater/pseuds/CrazyKater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Slash* The sequel to MS The Avenger. After rushing in to rescue Starsky and Joan Meredith, Hutch struggles with a painful memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	WHN Black & Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Brook for prompting me to write this, otherwise it may have never happened.

Letting out a deep breath, Hutch braced himself for what was to come.

He was coming off a double shift and the last thing he wanted to do was fight with his drunken wife at eight in the morning.

He took of his cap, and threw it on the coffee table. Then giving into the evitable, he made his way to the kitchen.

His beautiful wife.

Beautiful?

Beautiful to someone else maybe, but not to him. Not anymore.

She was standing at the counter. A glass of wine sitting next to her and a cigarette in her hand. Hutch sighed as he eyed the empty bottle of wine in the sink.

Had that been the only one this time?

"Van," he started, his voice quiet and tired.

Tired from work. Tired of this. So very tired.

"You can't smoke in here," he continued. "It's against our lease."

Vanessa didn't waste any time.

"I hate you!" she exclaimed, her brown eyes shining in fury.

He closed his eyes forced a deep breath.

Stay calm. Stay calm.

"Okay," he sighed finally. "But you still can't smoke in here."

He walked to her. Grabbing the cigarette, he stubbed it out in the waiting ashtray. Then abandoned it there to be claimed by one of them later.

She reached her hand up and aimed it at his cheek. He caught it at the last second, and she scowled at him as she pulled her hand back angrily.

Vanessa always did hate it when he blocked her assaults.

She turned away from him. Hutch watched as she made her way back to kitchen counter. He stared at the back of her white bathrobe while she picked up her wine glass and sipped at it casually.

And even though he didn't want to, he cringed inwardly and braced himself for the next round.

He didn't even know why he was there anymore.

"Hutch…" a strong voice broke through the depths of his unconsciousness. It was familiar and should respond to it, but he had no intention of abandoning memory now.

He needed to remember.

It took a few more moments, but Vanessa finally turned around. She placed her narrowing eyes on him, and he felt trapped under her poisonous gaze.

There was a time when her eyes had held so much love for him, but now they only shined in hatred. And she did despise him so much. He was sure of it.

"Hutch…" The voice called again. It was close and more insistent this time. "Come on, buddy, open your eyes."

Starsky? Starsky hadn't been there that day.

More voices. Saying things he couldn't make out, but he really didn't care. This memory was important and he intended to finish it.

The moment was coming.

He looked at her, only to see her dark eyes narrow in distain.

"I'm through with you," she whispered fervently. "I want a divorce."

He offered up a shrug. He wasn't going to argue with that. He wanted one too.

"Come on, Blintz!" Starsky again. Softer this time. "I wanna see those eyes of yours."

"Don't you even want to know why?" Vanessa spat.

She took her wine glass from the counter, and he wondered if she planned to drink it or throw it at him.

She emptied it first. The contents of the glass slipping easily down her small delicate throat. Then she held it.

For those agonizing moments he watched as she ran her fingertip over the rim of the glass. The movement of her red polished fingernail forever imprinted in his mind.

In the end, she didn't destroy the glass. She destroyed him.

"You're a problem," she sneered drunkenly. "You've always been a problem, and you're going to spend your life wandering and searching for someone to solve you, but it's not going to work. You're just going to ruin everyone who tries to help."

Hutch flinched. The words hurt. They cut deeper than he ever imagined they could.

He wanted to yell and scream at her. Call her a string of nasty names, or verbally assault her with a list of every single thing he knew was wrong with her.

But instead he said nothing.

Standing in the kitchen as she calmly placed her wine glass in the sink he didn't say a thing. She walked past him and pulled out the suitcases from the hall closet and he still said nothing. And later, he stayed silent as he watched her leave their apartment for the last time.

Because she was right.

Someone was pushing the hair off his forehead and then caressing his cheek. The touch was familiar and he was sure he had felt it before.

Starsky?

No. Not Starsky. Starsky was gone.

He was temporarily partnered with Joan Meredith. The woman who not only had claimed Hutch's spot by the curly haired man's side at work but also would inevitably ended up in his bed.

"Open your eyes, babe."

No.

"Come on," Starsky breathed with a hint of desperation to his voice, and Hutch couldn't help but comply.

His eyes opened into two small slits and he blinked lazily as his partner slowly came into focus. Starsky was sitting next to the bed. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Hutch felt drained looking at him.

"There you go!" Starsky exclaimed in excitement and his face lit up with an electric smile.

Hutch closed his eyes once more. His exhaustion trying desperately to entice him back to unconsciousness.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me again," Starsky objected. "I just got ya back."

Hutch forced his eyes open and set a questioning gaze on his partner.

"They gave you some pretty intense pain killers, buddy. You've been in and out," Starsky offered. "You tore your shoulder wide open, rushin' to save us like that. They had to do surgery again, and that's when they found out the damn thing was infected."

"How long?" Hutch asked his voice low and scratchy. "How long have I been out of it?"

"Oh," Starsky sighed then tilted his head and scrunched his nose. "'Bout four days."

Four days?

"You've been in an out," Starsky explained, he reached out to give Hutch's uninjured arm a quick squeeze, and his hand lingered after. "You did an awful lot of talkin'," he paused to grin, his brows rose and he looked at Hutch knowingly. "Ya kept on callin' me Vanessa."

Hutch cleared his throat drowsily, and he looked at the wall. The mixture of the pain medication and the memory of Vanessa made him feel empty somehow. And suddenly he fought tears.

"Look at me," Starsky requested softly. Gathering Hutch's hand in his own he laced their fingers together. "Look at me, babe."

Hutch shook his head. But despite the action, he found himself making eye contact with Starsky anyway. Starsky offered him a warm smile and squeezed his hand tightly.

"So that last conversation with Vanessa, that was pretty rough, huh?" Starsky asked softly, and Hutch's mouth fell open.

"I heard ya, Hutch," Starsky smiled sadly. "I know what she said to you. Jesus, babe, why didn't you ever tell me?"

Because, she was right.

Hutch shrugged and sniffled as tears fell from his devastated eyes. Pain medication always did make him weepy and his exhaustion was doing little to help him keep his composure.

Starsky squeezed his hand once more before breaking the contact, and Hutch wanted sob as his partner stood.

"Babe," Starsky said. He leaned over and held Hutch's face between his hands. "She wasn't right. You gotta know she wasn't right."

Hutch opened his mouth to disagree, but his voice caught on a sob.

How could Starsky say that? He knew more than anyone how true Vanessa's words had been.

Their broken conversation in the Torino the day Starsky questioned why they couldn't be together. Starsky demanding Hutch leave him in the hospital after Monique. Both were a testament to what had happened between them. And even though Starsky was denying it now, he knew the truth.

Hutch had ruined him too.

But the next words from Starsky took Hutch by surprise.

"You are not a problem," Starsky whispered firmly. "You have never been a problem, and you will never be a problem."

More tears fell and Hutch's lip quivered as Starsky let go of his face and leaned in to kiss him tenderly.

"Now," Starsky said as he pulled back from the kiss. "Are you ready to love me again?"

"Yes," Hutch breathed before his fuzzy brain had a chance to think about it.

Starsky sat once more. He grabbed Hutch's hand firmly and, once again, laced their fingers together. And Hutch fought hard to imprint this new memory in his mind.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to keep the old one at bay.

END (Maybe… or maybe I'll continue this, and write them happy together.)


End file.
